Born and raised in the DC Metro Area, Kosoko Jackson is currently a candidate at Southern New Hampshire’s Mountainview MFA program. He writes YA novels featuring African American queer protagonists and is a sensitivity reader for Big Five Publishers. Some of his favorite authors are Courtney Summers, Jen DeLuca, Adib Khorram, Casey McQuiston, Ian McEwan, Alex London, Andi Christopher, Dhonielle Clayton, Ryan LaSalla, Denise Williams and Natalie Parker.
Professionally, he is a digital media specialist and freelance political journalist. His personal essays and short stories have been featured on Medium, Thought Catalog, The Advocate and some literary magazines.
When not writing novels that champion holistic representation of black queer youth across genres, he can be found obsessing over movies, drinking his (umpteenth) London Fog, sampling odd tea flavors or spending far too much time on Twitter.
His 2021 YA debut, Yesterday is History, is published by SourceBooks Fire, and his adult #ownvoices queer romcom, I’m So (Not) Over You, will come out in 2022 with Berkley Romance.
Visit him at Kosokojackson.com or @kosokojackson on Twitter or Instagram.
Q: What sorts of books did you read while growing up, how keen a reader were you, who influenced that, and what kinds of books didn’t exist then that you’re pleased are more available now (or that you are determined to make more available now)?
A: I read a lot of fantasy books when I was younger! I was a big fan of The Bartimaeus Trilogy and The Pendragon series. Having those series in my life that had, like me, precocious boys as main characters helped me learn what it meant to be smart, brave, confident, caring and an overall good person. I think that’s the key power of stories: to teach lessons and help kids grow.
Books were also a huge safe haven for me when growing up, and as such, I was lucky enough to have parents who never said ‘no’ to a book. My parents often read the book with me (at their own pace!) and discussed the themes with me, especially when younger. They helped me pick books and stories that would challenge me, help me grow, but most importantly, let me read what I wanted. That was huge when growing up, having that autonomy. As a reader (and now a writer, too), I wish there were more books with Black male main characters who were more than just stereotypes. I think we’ve come so far, and I’m proud to be part of that tapestry.
Q: As a debut author, you’ve made the unusual move of publishing your first books for entirely different markets: YA novel, adult novel, and a short story in the anthology Out Now: Queer We Go Again. Are you consciously pursuing the freedom of not settling into a niche, even at the potential cost of a marketing disadvantage? Do you hope to continue writing for these different audiences? Does one draw you more than another?
A: I love this question! I don’t see it as a disadvantage. This--writing in multiple genres--is a quintessential representation of who I am. As a writer and a person, I love to explore and experience new avenues and push myself. There were certain things I wanted to accomplish in young adult, and as I wrote more, I realized some of those goals would work better in adult fiction. I wanted to write stories that weren’t fully fleshed out novels, so a short story worked better. I continue to keep writing for different markets because different markets allow me to explain and say different things. Plus, we need more queer male stories everywhere!
Q: In Yesterday is History, the relationship between the protagonist and his parents is close and respectful. They were totally accepting of his coming out (and yet normal in worrying about his dating choices and whether he makes curfew). When his rich white boyfriend shows up unexpectedly at his house for the first time, his thoughts are: “I’m not ashamed of [my parents]. Never have been and never will be. I’m not ashamed of anything about my life.” Also, for both his boyfriend and boyfriend’s parents, race is never an issue. Does this reflect your own growing-up years: a mostly warm, accepting family and neighborhood?
A: If you had to give me a scale, with 0 being "it doesn't reflect my real-life experience at all" and 10 being "it completely represents it," I would say Yesterday is History is closer to an 8. I had accepting parents who helped craft me into the person I am today. I'm not going to say coming out was perfectly easy, but I had family who came around and accepted me for who I am quickly. I also had friends who supported me, and in college (I came out in 9th grade), I quickly found a community. I’m lucky. But, especially for teens who aren’t so lucky, I think it's essential to create books where that idealism is a reality. There is a space for books that are 100% realistic and show the 'bad endings' of coming out. There is space for books that show the growth circle of parents, friends, and family. I didn't want to write that. I wanted to focus on love, on the growth of Andre, and finding his path as a teen who always had his life planned, and having a support system in other aspects of his life was essential to do that.
Q: What has drawn you to write for teens, and particularly to specialize in romance (though melding it with time travel in Yesterday is History)? And what do you think it takes to encourage young guys to read, especially Black male LGBTQ high schoolers?
A: It took me a long time to get to a place where I wanted to write romance. When I was younger, I thought the only books I could write were "serious" books with lots of gore and grit. I think part of that comes from how society views men and what they can create and enjoy. But as I grew, I quickly learned what I enjoy is multi-faceted. Yes, I love high octane thrillers, but I also love seeing people fall in love. I think that's mainly because there are/were so few stories where Black men--Black queer men especially--get their happy endings.
I write for teens because I want to create books that I didn't have when younger and add to the tapestry of diversity we're seeing in literature. No two stories, even with the same prompt, are the same. There is room for all of us, and the point of view of Black male LGBTQ high schools is valid, meaningful, and needed. I don't think, and you see this often, boys should only read books about boys or read books about boys. But I think it's essential we have books where Black boys are central main characters who are successful, thriving, and have a loving family; not only to make sure these points of view are represented but to remind the media we are more than just a single narrative.
Q: What does serving as a sensitivity reader involve, why do you think it’s important, and in what ways it is also somewhat fraught these days?
A: As a sensitivity reader, I help authors ensure their representation of specific things is correct in my eyes. I focus on the representation of male queerness and Blackness in books. It's important to note a sensitivity reader isn't a "one voice that's right above all." If you ask 100 Black people to read a story about a Black person, you'll get 100 different points of view. I'm just providing one point of view, from my experience. But that one is generally better than going into something blind with no 'gut check.' That's how I like to think of a sensitivity reader; a gut check. I believe sensitivity readers are always valuable. At worst, an author or a house spent money on a gut check. At best, they help you find some crucial error in your work that you didn't see because...well, sometimes it's impossible to see the forest for the trees. Sensitivity readers should be employed by houses and should come out of the budget of the house, not the authors, especially if they are used after acquiring a book. They aren't here to cause trouble, we are here to make books better, and the advice we give comes from trying to make the representation as best as possible. Of course, you don't have to listen! It's not some edict from on high.